A Series of Fortunate Events
by TheNewIdea
Summary: There is always a silver lining. That is the cliché in stories such as this. The idea that no matter how far you fall down the hole, as long as you get back up and climb, eventually you come out of the darkness and into the light. Narrated by Ink, otherwise known as the Incredibly Deadly Viper. An experimental piece. Rated T for family drama, language and humanistic ideologies.


It brings me great joy to tell you that this is a tale that although filled with sadness and deception, is actually one of happiness, love and friendship unlike any other. It is a story that you've all heard before, but never quite in this way. No, my friends, the story of Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire does not end with the island, but rather begins.

After the death of Count Olaf the world began to be a little brighter, a little better. Klaus started reading again, Sunny continued her cooking studies, and Violet, now well within her heritage, became wiser. As for the baby Beatrice, I can say only this, she grew up beautifully.

How do I know this? Last you checked I was on a boat with a bunch of islanders and a single apple. Well, if you know anything about snakes it is this, some of us are notorious swimmers. At my first opportunity I slithered my way out of that godforsaken boat and back to the island, which I could see from my position. I decided that, if I was going to die, I would rather do so in the company of people I could actually stand, surrounded by those that I loved unconditionally.

The island life does not suit me. I much preferred the Reptile Room, a place that I knew I would never return to again. I would never hang from the trees and talk to the birds, many of whom had become my friends. I would never see the colossal skeleton that hung overhead, which I also frequently conversed with, despite the fact that it never talked back. I am a lonely creature by nature, yet my personality would suggest that I crave society and the social life that it brings. It is this balance, between solitude, a sense of oneness and community, togetherness, which is the course of my life every single day. I do not regret this, not one bit, for the days in the Reptile Room were easily the best of my life, as well as every encounter with the Baudelaires and the Quagmires, both families which I sympathized with.

Speaking sincerely I must tell you the fate of the Quagmires, for it is only fair. They have gone into the Great Unknown, just as all members of the VFD do, in their own time. The Great Unknown cannot be known. It is not a force or an entity, but rather a place. A place where even people like Count Olaf, can find happiness, although I doubt it would be the kind of happiness that would last long in Olaf's case. There is a sense of magic to it, a sense of wonder that the Great Unknown provides. An idea, a world without pain, where orphans do not exist and where the family is all inclusive.

As for myself it is bittersweet. For the Great Unknown is not a place for Incredibly Deadly Vipers, no matter how much I want it to be. No, people like the Baudelaires, people like Kit and Fiona, those who have done good and bad for the sake of those they love, are more deserving than I, a mere tag-along, an addition. But still, one can dream.

The Letter That Never Came was safely tucked away in a safe box that Violet carried with her at all times. This letter, which I have not had the pleasure of reading, I understood to be the quintessential definition of love and understanding. A declaration love that with it came the realization of the world, that it is a cruel place filled with cruel people who do cruel and unspeakable things. Pulling it out, Violet began to read it to herself, if nothing else to remind her of the world that she was once a part of. As I watched her from the tree that she was resting against I felt something in my heart, a feeling that I thought I would never feel again.

In the words of Beatrice Baudelaire, whom I assume to be the author of the Letter, I shall recite.

_Dearest Children,_

_ Since we've been aboard we've missed you all so much. Certain events have compelled us to extend our travels. One day, when you're older, you will learn all about the people we've befriended and the dangers we've faced. At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place. But believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad. And what might seem as a series of unfortunate events may be the first steps of a journey._

Violet stopped here, for what reason I do not know. I can only assume that the remainder of the Letter is now a sad and soft lie. Words that started out a truth and through an ironic turn of events, unfortunate in the truest of sense, became a lie.

"What are we going to do?" Violet said to herself, "We can't continue on, living this way. There has to be closure, there has to be a silver lining."

There is always a silver lining. That is the cliché in stories such as this. The idea that no matter how far you fall down the hole, as long as you get back up and climb, eventually you come out of the darkness and into the light. If I could I would form a ladder out of my body so that they could climb to the surface and see the world for what it truly is-beautiful. If I were to go to such lengths and perish in the effort, I would go happily, for like I said before I would rather die with the Baudelaires than risk spending the rest of my days surrounded by horrible, selfish people.

Violet placed the Letter back in the box from whence it came and looked up in the tree, her eyes meeting mine. She gave a soft smile, one that I found to be particularly enthralling and gently brushed the top of my head.

"What do you think Ink?" she asked, "What should we do?"

There are times like these that I wish I could speak, for then I would be able to say what was truly on my mind instead of having them guess what I was thinking all the time. If I had the ability to speak I would've said something along the lines of this.

"The world is a beautiful place, what do you say we join it again?"

Since Violet was unable to understand me I simply decided to play the role of dog and nudged her face as playfully as I could, giving her the snake equivalent of a kiss on the cheek at the same time. Violet laughed, it was a happy laugh, one that she hadn't let out in years. I smiled the best that I could and slowly made my way down the tree leaving Violet to her own affairs.

I found Klaus playing with Sunny and Beatrice in Ishmael's shed just up the beach. The boy had grown to be formidable in most respects. At night I would find him wandering the beaches alone, contemplating his life and where it would go from here. Klaus was a boy, now almost a man, of the world, he needed to get back to it, or else he would sink to the ground and drown in his own tears. Sunny, who was getting older every day, was also a girl of the world, but of a different kind. She was curious about things, how the world worked and why things were the way they were. Particularly, she took an interest in my biology, looking over every inch of me, even places that were, shall we say uncomfortable.

The island life was no place for them either. Like me they cherished companionship at the highest of levels, they wanted above all else to love and to be loved. To know what it's like to have your heart taken by someone else, either by giving it willingly or simply letting the heart have its way, and for that heart to be destroyed, broken and smashed in pieces that can never be recovered until you decide, as a person, to heal.

In my case the only thing I seek is a home, for I am an orphan as well. I say this in loose terms of course, for I do not need others to take care of me, my instincts will do that. Rather I seek a security, a place for animals such as myself, who have gained self awareness and respect, who understand humanity in all its complex levels of being, a place where I can love someone and be loved in turn by someone else.

There are many stages and degrees of love, while we're on the subject. My definition is the intimate sort, the kind of love that can be shared between two people each of their own free will. The kind of love that creates and takes away life, creating through the process of reproduction and taking away in the philosophical sense of allowing yourself to be engulfed with that other person, to be apart and together all at once. That kind of love is one that I have been denied, one that I currently seek and I one that I do not expect to find while I remain here, trapped on this island.

So in a way, I guess I am seeking more than just a home.

The kind of love that the Baudelaires provide is the familial kind. The all inclusiveness of the Great Unknown combined with a deep sense of loyalty and companionship that brings with it a different kind of intimacy. The people who share the familial love are those you cannot imagine a world without, who you would die for in a heartbeat if it meant that they breathed for one second more, if only to bring what light they had to the world. But such lights will only extinguish in places like this, this island that once was a blessing, now a curse and a grim reminder of what once was.

"Hello Ink" Klaus said welcomingly as I showed myself inside, "How are you doing today?"

I saw no point in answering, for he wouldn't understand me anyway. Still, to make it feel like I answered him, I moved next to the boy and wrapped myself around him in a loving embrace, well, loving for a snake at least.

"Take it easy Ink" Klaus continued, laughing at the same time, "You're crushing me!"

Having no interest in crushing the boy I eased off, turning my attention to Sunny and the newly arrived Beatrice.

Sunny had taken it upon herself to teach Beatrice the ways of living; it was comforting and particularly sweet, seeing Sunny grow from the little girl in the Reptile Room to the mentor that she had become. According to the other Baudelaires, Sunny had become a decent cook, an experience that I have yet to had, one that even if it was terrible I undoubtedly enjoyed simply to see Sunny's smile of approval.

"Inky" Sunny said in greeting, already able to form basic sentences thanks to the intensive teachings of Klaus and Violet, "Come say hi to Beatrice."

I remained where I was, for despite my playful nature with children the last thing I wanted to do was scare a baby. With Sunny, it was different, for I knew a Baudelaire when I saw one and thus I knew she would be unafraid. Beatrice however, was not a Baudelaire, at least, not yet. However, her mother Kit I also knew and also protected. Perhaps Beatrice would be different in a similar manner, but I did not want to take the chance and so watched her from a distance as I do with everything in life.

My purpose in this story, in the continuation of the Baudelaire's life, is to be the constant, the one thing that never changes. In many ways I have taken upon the mantle that Montgomery, Mr. Poe and even Aunt Josephine had once taken. To be the guardian, the caretaker and the provider for the Baudelaire children, which I guess might as well include Beatrice.


End file.
